Unintended Consequences
by dracoredeemed
Summary: Harry is getting magically bonded, Draco is drunk, and things don't go quite according to plan. H/D Slash. Rated for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was written especially for the lovely Aandune, who has always been so encouraging. Thanks, K :-) Unintended Consequences 

**Chapter 1**

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the bonding of this couple in magical wedlock." The officiating wizard celebrant looked sombrely toward the congregation and paused for effect. "The magical bonding of two people represents an eternal tie that can never be broken." The old wizard looked up from his text again and smiled gently at the couple before him. "It is an expression of fidelity, trust and love."

Harry turned his head slightly to look at Ginny, who was gazing at him rapturously, and his stomach clenched. Fuck! How on earth had he gotten himself into this? Of all the stupid things he had been coerced into in his young life, this had to be the worst. He chided himself yet again for always doing what he was told would be good for him. It _always_ happened like this. He was such a sucker for pleasing others, though he had no idea why he even cared. People were _always_ telling him what to do and he was _always _going along with it.

He'd been told at the tender age of eleven that the entire wizarding world expected him to fight Voldemort, even though he'd only just found out he _was _a wizard, so he did. He was told to compete in the Tri-wizard tournament, even though he hadn't put his name in the cup and he was scared shitless, so he did. He was told to get over the death of his Godfather and get on with life, even though Sirius had been the only adult who'd come even close to being a parent, so he did. And most recently, he was told he should be an Auror, even though he was bloody sick and tired of fighting Dark wizards, so he did.

And now, here he was getting bonded to Ginny, because everyone had, as usual, expected him to. And he, as usual, didn't want to let them down. He was twenty-one and living someone else's life. Groaning inwardly, he summoned up all his inner strength and forced a weak smile as he turned to Ginny and took her hands for the final blessing.

--------------------

Draco lolled back in his seat and stretched his legs out beneath the pew in front of him. He was alone in the back, so he surreptitiously pulled the flask of firewhiskey from his inside pocket and swigged deeply from it. He was drunk, that he knew. And intending to get drunker. As he lifted the flask to his lips once more, he wondered how long it would take him to get completely wasted. Closing his eyes to block out the nauseatingly festive décor, he rested his head on the hard wooden back of the pew and cursed himself for even coming.

He hated bondings. He hated ceremonies of any kind—they were so bloody pompous. He hated Potter. And, what's more, he hated himself. Actually, he didn't exactly _hate_ Potter, if truth be known. It was more of a sneering dislike, a mocking contempt, if you will. As he lounged in his seat, his eyes still closed, images of Potter swam in his head. Potter on a broom, beating him to the Snitch yet again. Potter and his bloody cronies winning house points for breaking the rules. Potter being cheered for winning the Tri-wizard Cup. Potter in the showers after Quiddich, laughing and gloating with his team mates, his fit body dripping as he towelled himself dry. And in Potions, bent over his text in concentration, absently rubbing the back of his neck--his smooth, tanned neck, framed by soft, dark hair that refused to be tamed.

Draco sighed and rubbed his brow as if the action would wipe such thoughts away. Okay, so he didn't hate Potter _at all._ He didn't even dislike him. No. It was more like quiet ambivalence, vacillating between enmity and lust. If he admitted the truth to himself, it was even more than lust, though. It was an ache in his heart and his groin at the same time—a burning need coupled with the softer flame of appreciation, of affection. Oh, bloody hell… alright. _Alright!_ Of love. There, he'd admitted it. And it was that sorry admission that had him in his current state of near-inebriation while slouching in the back pew of a gaudily-decorated chapel in his best formal robes in the middle of a bloody hot summer's day.

Breathing in deeply to calm himself, his nostrils flared as the scent of camellias filled his lungs and his head, causing him to almost choke on its sweetness. What he wouldn't give, at this moment, to be far away from the sickly scent and the gaudy decorations and the soppy faces and the image of Potter at the front of the room holding the red-haired bint's hands as he gave over his very soul to her. He groaned softly and tried to think of something else, his mind wandering gently across softer, more pleasant memories in an attempt to block out the harsh reality that confronted him.

When he finally opened his eyes, the old wizard at the front of the room was blabbing on and on about love and eternity, which caused him to reach for his flask again. Lifting it to his lips, he willed the liquid to wipe his pain away. If not to wipe it away completely, then at least to dull it, to soften the sharp ache he felt in his chest. Looking around the room, he grimaced inwardly at the rapt faces, some with hankies dabbing at their eyes, others smiling moronically like love-sick puppies. Ugh. He had to get out of there.

As he took in the scene at the front, registering the request for promises and vows of undying love, he thought his head would explode into a million tiny pieces, each shard a sharp reminder of something he'd rather forget. It's not like Potter had reciprocated his feelings at all, or even knew how he felt. And that made his pain all the worse, for unrequited love had to be the most excruciating emotion a person could countenance. The loving of someone and the accompanying hatred born of denial and the knowledge of eternal suffering that lay ahead, forever stretching into the future to taint every day, every experience, every thought.

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stay. It would kill him.

Tossing the flask back into his pocket, he pulled out his wand and drunkenly Apparated away.

----------------------

"It is time to make your vows, which will seal the bond forever." The old wizard took Harry's and Ginny's hands in his and raised his wand to complete the final incantation. Harry looked into Ginny's eyes and willed himself to stay calm. He could do this. It was way too late to back out now and so he would _have_ to do this. He would be a man and live up to his responsibilities. Ginny was a wonderful person and would make a fantastic wife and mother. Of that he was certain. The fact that he didn't love her didn't matter one bit. It was his duty to be with her. She loved him so much and she deserved his undying devotion, even if he could never, ever give her his undying love.

"I hereby summon all the powers of Merlin to bind these young people in eternal…" Harry suddenly felt a heavy weight slam into him and his hands slipped out of Ginny's as he fell backwards to the floor. His lungs immediately emptied of air and he found himself fighting for breath, gasping and choking, clawing his hands around the heavy mass that lay atop him. When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred and when it finally cleared he was staring into the face of Draco Malfoy, whose weight was pinning him to the carpet, and whose firewhiskey breath was mingling with his own. "…wedlock." Suddenly, gold ties snaked out of the old wizard's wand and flew around them, binding them together as they struggled on the carpet.

Draco pulled his head back sharply and tried to focus. Abruptly, he realised just exactly where he was. "Fuck! I should never Apparate when I'm drunk!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 2**

Draco closed his eyes in mortification. Of all the places to mis-Apparate, he would have to choose this one. He must have been thinking about Potter instead of concentrating on the Manor. When he felt silken ties wrap themselves around him and Potter, binding them together, he suddenly knew that mis-Apparation was the least of his troubles. Opening his eyes, he glanced down into Potter's face and steeled himself for the onslaught of abuse that would no doubt be forthcoming. So, he was rather surprised, to say the least, when the Boy Who Lived merely blinked several times, looking up at him with shocked green eyes, and whispered, "Quickly. Kiss me." His lips had barely moved and Draco had to do a double take to make sure he'd actually heard what Potter had said. _Kiss me_. It didn't register as an appropriate response to the situation—to _any_ situation he might find himself in with Potter. And yet, that was what he'd said—_Kiss me!_

Now Draco may have been three-sheets-to-the-wind stumbling-drunk, but he still had his wits about him. If he had heard correctly—and he was smashed, not deaf, he reminded himself—Potter had asked to kiss him. To _kiss _him…! To kiss _him_! Well, if that wasn't an invitation for his tongue to take a goosey-gander inside the depths of Potter's soft, pink mouth—with those cherubic lips pouting up towards him like two ripe cherries—he didn't know what was. So without further ado, he leaned forward ever so slightly and clamped his lips onto the gloriously tender entry to the eighth wonder of the universe that was Potter's mouth, and sucked for all he was worth.

He wasn't sure whether Potter's responding gasp was one of pleasure or surprise, but he took it for a positive sign and plunged his tongue in to plunder the roof of Potter's mouth, licking and sucking on Potter's tongue as if his life depended on it. Which it very well might, he mused, given their situation. Apparently the red-haired harpy was not to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World's blissful betrothed after all. Draco had been to enough ceremonies of this kind to know that the final incantation and binding sealed the union, and it struck him as not a little ironic that, not only was his Harry—for one could hardly be bound to one's love and continue to call him by his surname—now free of said harpy, but he was also magically bound for life to yours truly!

Draco quietly beamed to himself as he continued to pillage Harry's gorgeous mouth, all the while quite well aware of the fact that Harry had in no way instigated any of this. Well, there was _the kiss_, of course, but Draco wasn't drunk or stupid enough to assume that Harry had been carrying a torch for him all this time. Draco was quite sure that Harry was no shirt-lifter—at least not yet, he grinned to himself. And he was equally certain that Harry had had every intention of bonding with the beastly woman. No, it was likely Harry had some other reason for inviting him to this tortuously delicious feast at such short notice. Some ulterior motive. His Slytherin heart could practically feel the shrewdness and cunning emanating from the man who was presently—oh, so delectably-crushed beneath him. Whatever the reason, Draco thanked his lucky stars and every deity that may or may not exist, for the opportunity to indulge with such delightful abandon in what was fast becoming the inaugural Potter-Malfoy oral Olympics.

Draco was brought out of his reverie when Harry suddenly began squirming beneath him. Reluctantly, he abandoned Harry's bruised and swollen lips, pulling back just enough to be able to focus on those green, green eyes. He searched them for some indication of the reason behind Harry's bizarre request and was rewarded with a slight quirk of an eyebrow that told him, in no uncertain terms, to play along or accept the consequences. Draco smirked his reply, but then he was being yanked up by the collar, the golden bindings surrounding Harry and himself snapping from the force of the action.

It wouldn't be overstating it to say that the chaos that ensued their little on-stage tryst was quite the party. Indeed, chaos might even be too tame a word to describe the melee that presently overtook the little chapel, reducing the garish decorations to piles of dirty ribbons and broken doves and the overwhelming pong of the camellias to a malodorous heap of what ended up looking like pretty compost.

The ties now broken, Harry was dragged off in one direction by a screaming, red-faced tornado in a white dress, while Draco was hauled in the other by the many implacable, red-headed brothers of the aggrieved bride, all apparently ready to pummel him into an early grave. His inebriation helped to dull some of the pain, and he was thankful for that, but he wished they would be done with their beating so he could go back to snogging his oh-so-lovely husband, conveniently ignoring the part of him that recognised that the entire binding had been a complete accident.

Amongst the rantings that said Weasley brothers were aiming in his direction, Draco could just make out the blistering conversation being carried on at the opposite end of the dais between his darling other half and Harry's erstwhile betrothed.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Harry?" Ginny bellowed-a trifle unladylike, Draco couldn't help thinking. Draco also couldn't help noticing how well the crimson tone of Ginny's face contrasted so nicely with the pure white fluff of her dress, creating a pleasingly apoplectic effect, like a sunburnt toilet-roll doll. "I mean it, Harry! How did this happen?" She was quite overcome with fury by this stage, her fists waving menacingly in the air, and Draco frowned, hoping she wouldn't mar his husband's stunning countenance by punching him in the face.

After some further altercation, Harry finally pushed her away and pulled himself up to his full height, crossing his arms and staring her down with cold, emerald eyes. "Ginny, enough!" She stopped ranting as if she'd been hit in the face, and Harry continued in a low, but penetrating voice. "Draco and I are in love. I was going to marry you because it was expected. But it seems Draco had the sense to know better." Ginny blanched and nearly swooned at his words. Draco wasn't far behind her.

"But Harry, you're not gay!" She cried pleadingly. "You fucked me senseless only last Saturday! Surely that meant something?" There was a shocked silence as the words echoed throughout the room, but Harry remained unruffled.

"Look, Ginny. I'm sorry it had to be this way. I didn't think Draco felt so strongly about me, but it seems I was wrong. If he loves me enough to do what he did, then he deserves to be bound to me. We deserve to be together." With those words, Harry turned and marched over to where Draco was being held down by Fred and George. "Please leave my husband alone," he growled threateningly, and the twins lost no time in beating a fast retreat.

Draco looked up at Harry from his vantage point on the floor and his eyes grew wide as Harry leaned down and gently lifted him to his feet. Draco nearly swooned again as Harry pulled him into a gentle embrace and once again sought his lips, this time in a gut-wrenchingly, Mills-and-Boon-like, passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever. When Harry finally pulled back, he ghosted his lips over Draco's jaw in soft kisses until he reached his ear, where he murmured huskily, so that only Draco could hear, "Play along. I'll make it worth your while."

Draco thought he'd be happy to play with Harry for as long as it took and nodded happily as he returned Harry's kisses with enthusiasm. Several moments later, Harry pulled back again, lifting his hands to cup Draco's face before tracing his thumbs across Draco's cheekbones and down to the corners of his mouth. Wrapping himself around Draco, Harry looked tenderly into his eyes and Apparated them away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 3**

Harry and Draco were still wrapped around each other when they Disapparated into the living room of Harry's London flat. Harry sighed when he realised that if he didn't let go of the delicious man in his arms soon, the situation would start to get rather awkward. Leaning in to breathe the exotic fragrance emanating from Draco's long, silky neck, he clung to the embrace for as long as he dared. Quietly savouring the sensation of a strong, hard chest against his own, he marvelled at the turn of events that had brought them to this moment. While it was true that he _had_ fully intended to honour his promise to bond with Ginny, it seemed that Providence had thought otherwise, delivering instead his gorgeously fuckable dream man literally straight into his arms.

Not that Draco had any idea how he felt, mind. Indeed, Harry was quite sure the other man was only playing along at all because he was drunk to the eyeballs. Harry sighed again as he wondered how difficult it would be to convince Draco to consummate their bond in order to fully activate the magical connection between them. It was the only way he'd be able to convince Ginny that his bond with Draco was real and therefore couldn't be broken. Of course, Harry himself had _no_ problem at all with the idea of consummating the bonding. Draco had been the subject of Harry's fantasies for years, ever since he'd seen him snogging Blaise Zabini in the stairwell of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts in seventh year. Harry had been heading up the stairs to get some fresh air after a particularly nasty detention with Snape, when he'd come across the pair snuggling in an alcove. Blaise had been sucking rather enthusiastically on Draco's throat, his back towards Harry. The moonlight that beamed in through the leadlight windows above them had thrown delicate patterns of light across Draco's face as he'd thrown his head back, exposing the long, delicate line of his neck. Harry had stood mesmerised at the beauty of the boy and when Draco opened his lips slightly to utter a whimpering moan, the sound had gone straight to Harry's groin, and he'd nearly moaned himself.

Since that evening, he had quietly watched Draco as he'd gone about his days in the castle, catching a glimpse here and a peek there of the stunningly elegant boy. Draco was everything Harry was not and, like the opposing force of a magnet to a piece of steel, he was everything Harry had ever wanted. He'd followed Draco around as often as he could, staring in awe at the way his silky, flaxen hair framed the soft, fair skin of his delicately angular face and the way he moved, exposing the long, clean lines of his torso and limbs. At night, Harry had lain in bed and imagined those limbs wrapped around him, clinging to him with abandon as they engaged in acts of pure, unadulterated lust. Indeed, it wouldn't be going too far to say that said imaginings had fuelled more than a few nocturnal emissions, leaving Harry drenched in sweat (among other things) and trembling with the intensity of it all.

When they'd left Hogwarts, Harry had thought he would never see Draco again, and had consoled himself with Ginny, who was more than eager to satisfy his appetites. Well, _satisfied_ wouldn't be _quite_ the way to describe the effect Ginny had on him in the bedroom. Truth be told, she was a bit of a prude, and Harry had made a habit, more often than not, of closing his eyes during sex, ostensibly in passion, but in actuality so that he could picture himself plunging root deep into a slim, hard body whose blond hair splayed out over the pillow and whose long, pale limbs wrapped around his back. Ginny had never been the wiser.

He'd seen Draco at all the parties of course, usually on the arm of some pretty girl or boy, but had rarely spoken to him, let alone told him how he felt. Instead, he had contented himself with Ginny's eager attentions, while at the same time enjoying the boisterous warmth that was the Weasley family. He had, it seemed, long ago forgone any hopes of attaining the prize he presently held so longingly in his arms. The silkiness of Draco's skin, the softness of his hair, the silvery sparkle of his eyes, seemed to engulf him in a radiant glow of warmth that ebbed and flowed through and around him like a soft but steady heartbeat—like his very own life source.

Stifling a sigh, he pulled away from Draco to look into his eyes. They were rather unfocussed and appeared to be gazing through him. Harry cocked his head and tried to lock Draco's gaze in his. Fuck! Draco probably didn't even register what had happened in his drunken state. He didn't want to take advantage of the blond, but his choices were limited here. If they didn't consummate the bond, sealing it forever, Ginny would have an out. On the other hand, Harry was well aware of the fact that bonding to a drunken partner was hardly the ethical thing to do. He pondered his options carefully. It didn't really matter if they waited until tomorrow to consummate. But would Draco _want_ to, if sober? Could he take that risk? Perhaps he could make him an offer he couldn't refuse—like a life debt or something. Draco had at least seemed amenable to kissing Harry. And Draco was gay—or at least bi—that he knew. And it's not as if Harry was the most unattractive man in the world. Not by any stretch. So, the question was: Strike now while the rod—er, iron—was hot, or wait for tomorrow when Draco could give his complete informed consent to the consummation?

What to do? What to do?

In the end, Harry decided to go with the flow. If Draco wanted him, as he appeared to, then it really wasn't taking advantage, was it? And if Draco really regretted it tomorrow, he could make sure that they came to some amicable agreement about how to go forward. As long as they sealed the deal, so to speak. So, having decided on the best solution, Harry now had to think of the best method for attaining his goal. After much deliberation, the direct approach, he decided, was probably the best way forward.

Stepping away slightly from his non-con husband, he ran his thumb across Draco's cheekbone before leaning forward and whispering against his lips, "You realise now we have to fuck to make this official, right?" Draco opened his eyes wide and gasped, before rolling his eyes back and fainting dead away.

---------------

When Draco awoke, he couldn't immediately remember where he was and his head was pounding. There was the chapel in Ottery St Catchpole, smelly flowers and lots of fake doves, he recalled, but looking up at the ceiling above him, he could find no evidence at all of that venue. No, this ceiling was much lower and there were no bunches of white camellias dangling hideously from it. Indeed, it was bare but for a Muggle lightshade made of some kind of glass. What a Muggle lightshade would be doing at a Wizard's Bonding was anyone's guess. Perhaps it was part of the ritual—you know, wizard-Muggle relations being the big thing these days and all. Perhaps he had passed out and they had dragged him away and dumped him in some unsuspecting Muggle house nearby.

And what was he doing on the floor, anyway? Oh, that's right, he had been on the floor at some stage, tied to Potter—lying on top of Potter, in fact. And _kissing_ him! Oh, the _kissing_! He closed his eyes and swallowed deeply as he recalled that yummy little sliver of memory, lounging and revelling in it as if letting it go would make it disappear forever. Mmmmm… those lips, so soft, so yielding… but passionate, almost scorching! Abruptly he felt his cock stand to attention and his eyes flew open as he looked around to make sure no one was there to notice that little detail. Concentrating hard (he sniggered to himself at his little mental pun) he tried to take his mind back to the chapel—to _after_ the kiss. What then? His poor throbbing head reminded him how drunk he had been and he wondered if he had passed out from complete inebriation. He'd managed to work his way through almost a whole flask of Firewhisky and surely _that_ would be enough to pass out on.

But no… he had been attacked by some Weasleys after the kiss, hadn't he? Right, yes, the Weasleys. And then? He groaned as he fought through the cobwebs in his brain, trying to focus. The fight, yes, then the red-haired harpy screaming all over the place, and then? Oh. Right. Potter had gone and bloody _kissed him again_! And then he had Apparated them.

So this was where they had Apparated to. Moving his head to look sideways, Draco could make out a couch and coffee table, some kind of big black metal and glass box and a fireplace with a mantle. So, Potter's house? He was lying on a rug that felt soft to his fingers when he splayed them out. Not bad. The décor was acceptable, he supposed, if a trifle garish. That mirror above the mantle, for example. What a horridly ornate frame! What was Harry thinking? And that side table was positively hideous. Who bought oak these days? It was so last year.

But wait. He still didn't know why he was lying on the floor. Maybe the Apparating had knocked him out. His Apparating record for the day had already been off, so maybe the second Apparation was just too much for him. Yes, that could be it. That must be it. Slowly raising his head and shoulders, he gingerly eased himself upwards to lean on his elbows. So where was Potter? "Potter?" he called out in what was supposed to be a loud voice but which ended up more of a squeak, er, a manly whisper—one that caused him to quickly reach up and grab his temple in pain.

Potter suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking anxious. "Draco? You're awake! Thank God!" He moved over to where Draco lay on the floor and knelt down beside him. "Are you all right?" He peered into Draco's eyes worriedly, the sheer greenness of those orbs making Draco blink rapidly as if he'd been struck by a lightening bolt. "Oh God, I am so sorry for being so forward. Honestly, I know you were under the weather but under the circumstances, I thought…." Potter shrugged then. "Well, you seemed to like the kissing…." He finished lamely and a light bulb the size of the Tower of London went off inside Draco's head. Holy, fuck. Potter had asked him for a shag. His cock, which had wilted slightly in his confusion, sprang immediately to life again, struggling painfully against the buttons of his trousers.

Not one to waste a perfectly good opportunity when it all but cuffed him in the face, Draco immediately gulped a deep breath and reached up to drag Harry—yes! It was _Harry_, he remembered—down on top of him, conveniently forgetting that Harry only wanted to shag him to seal the bond. Well, perhaps he didn't _forget_, as such. It was more in the realm of—oh, say—_fuck motivations, let's get on with it_ that crossed his mind. To his credit, Harry didn't miss a beat, obligingly jumping on top of Draco and parting his lips to let Draco once again despoil the inside of his mouth. As far as opportunities were concerned, Draco knew this could very well be—indeed, most probably _was_—a once off deal, so he determined to put all his enthusiasm into shagging Harry senseless. With that in mind, he set forth to give Harry the fuck of a lifetime, no holds barred.

So he was quite surprised when Harry pulled back suddenly, panting heavily. "Oh God, Draco, you're still drunk aren't you? Are you sure you want to do this?"

Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, was the man insane! Here was Draco practically throwing himself at Harry, and Harry—God bless him—was having a bloody full-on, get-thee-to-a-nunnery, Gryffindor moral attack. Draco inwardly rolled his eyes and tied to control his breathing, which had become quite, er, _laboured_ under the aforesaid lustful onslaught. Harry was looking down at him anxiously again and Draco knew there would be nothing for it but to play his cards for all he was worth.

"Harry, I'm quite, quite sober now," he purred in his most reassuring voice, making sure to lower his lashes provocatively. "And I'm quite happy to help you, here. Who'd turn down a perfectly good shag?" Draco tried to sound matter-of-fact, but Harry still looked doubtful. So he laid down his trump card. "Anything to get back at the Weasleys." He shot Harry his most devious smirk, the one where he looked both sexy-as-hell and amused-beyond-belief at the same time.

"Well… if you say so, Draco. If you're sure…." Harry gazed down at him with the cutest look on his face—all concerned but with traces of lust around the edges, and Draco knew he had him.

"Of course I'm sure." Draco sat up further then and made to stand, reaching down to grab Harry's hand as he did so. He dusted himself off before turning to help Harry do the same, his hands lingering a little longer than necessary on the other boy's arse. "Look, let's be civilised about this. I'm sure you have a bed around here somewhere. We want to make sure we do this properly." He winked at Harry, who blushed ever so sweetly. "You know, for the, er, bond and all."

"Right! Right. The, er, bond. Yes, of course." Harry flushed beet-red then and looked away quickly. Oh, God, he was gorgeous when he was embarrassed. "The bedroom's down here." Harry took Draco's hand in his and pulled him gently down the hallway towards what Draco supposed was Harry's own bedroom. Harry opened the door to a large, airy bedchamber furnished with a huge, carved, mahogany four-poster bed dressed with a subtly elegant emerald and silver coverlet. There were delicate lace curtains at the window that let the light through in soft, muted patterns across the Audubon rug that lay at the centre of the room. Draco inwardly sqeed at the perfectly romantic tableau it presented. Outwardly, however, he looked around the room non-committedly as if to say _it'll do_.

"Slytherin colours?" Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry, who squirmed uncomfortably. Draco took pity on him then, and moved to draw him into a warm embrace. "Looks very comfy," he added, looking earnestly into Harry's eyes, which had clouded over with lust. _Yes! He still had it!_ He smoothly moved in for the kill, capturing Harry's lips, tenderly at first, just nipping and sucking at the soft edges before raining kisses down Harry's jaw. When he reached the place where Harry's earlobe joined the tender skin of his throat, he nibbled gently, taking the lobe in between his teeth before sucking it tenderly and moving his tongue along the curve of the shell of Harry's ear. He felt Harry relax in his arms, shivering noticeable with pleasure.

"Draco?" Harry's breath was coming in short gasps as Draco licked and sucked on the tanned skin of his neck.

"Mmmm?" Draco was a little distracted, as you can imagine.

"Um, I've, er… Oh, that feels so good!" Harry leaned his head further back to give Draco better access.

"What's that, sweetheart?" Draco replied absently as he nipped a line along Harry's collarbone.

"Unnhhhhhh! Ohhh! Oh, Draco…." Harry's breath was coming in soft rasps now. "I've, um, never… Oh, oooooh! Oh…. I've never been… Gahhhh! With another man before."

Oh, Fuck! That did it. Draco sighed and pulled back slightly. He could pretend Harry really wanted him. He could pretend he was giving Harry what he wanted and that it was for Harry's own good. But he was damned sure he couldn't possibly take advantage of someone—of _Harry_—_his_ Harry—when they were in such a vulnerable state. He had adored Harry from afar for so long, he knew it had to be perfect.

Sighing gently to himself, Draco let go of his dream and carefully pulled Harry flush against him, gently massaging his back in small, reassuring circles. Tenderly pushing back a stray strand of hair from where it hid Harry's scar, Draco looked at him tenderly and said, "Okay, Harry, You can fuck me first, then."


	4. Chapter 4

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 4**

When Draco leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Harry's mouth, Harry thought all his Christmases had come at once. He was actually _here_, in his _bedroom_, kissing _Draco_, which in itself was enough to elicit pure bliss. But to be here in his bedroom, kissing Draco, _and_ with a view to actually getting him into his _bed_! Well, Harry was certain that he'd died and gone to heaven. Afraid to open his eyes in case it was all a dream, Harry just melted into the luscious depths of soft, wet sucking and licking and pulsing and grinding. Oh! Oh… the _grinding_! Harry was sure he'd never felt anything so hot, so absolutely delicious, in his entire existence. Draco's hips were grinding into him as if they were made precisely for that purpose, and Harry groaned as he ground back, the feel of Draco's hard length pressed against his own, sending spikes of fiery desire like electric shocks to his groin, causing his erection to swell almost to bursting point and throb eagerly in response.

Harry threw his head back when Draco's lips moved to his throat, his tongue lapping a wet line from Harry's jaw down to his collarbone, before moving back up in a trail of soft, wet kisses, each of which was like a spark of electricity under Harry's skin. His entire body was on fire, and when Draco slipped his hands into Harry's robes and adroitly unfastened them to make contact with his skin, Harry arched back and whimpered as each movement of Draco's long fingers ignited his nerves like hot blue flames, leaving a trail of goose flesh in their wake. Harry groaned with need. He needed more skin contact. _Much_ more skin contact.

Deftly, he turned Draco around and moved him towards the bed. They collapsed onto it in a tangle of limbs and lips, never stopping even to catch a breath, torn garments being thrown chaotically about the room as they struggled to divest each other of their clothes as efficiently as possible. Finally, when Harry—at last—found himself atop Draco, skin to skin, he pulled back, panting heavily. Draco was lying beneath him in all his resplendent glory, his white-blond hair trailing attractively across the pillow and his long pale limbs draped sensuously around Harry's hips. It was as if all Harry's fantasies had come to fruition and he almost had to pinch himself to see if it was real. Draco gazed into Harry's eyes seductively, causing another wave of desire to wash over him, almost drowning him with its intensity. This was it. The real thing. This was everything he had hoped for and dreamed of, and it was all coming true. Harry thought his heart would burst from the emotion that welled within him. He was overwhelmed by it. This, he suddenly knew, was more than sex, more than two bodies consummating a bond, more even than the realisation of a long-held dream. This was _love_. Harry gasped when the realisation struck him like a hot branding iron. _He was in love._ Draco had branded him long ago—he was totally and thoroughly possessed by the man whose exquisite fingers were trailing molten rivers of sensation down his back and along his thighs. And with that realisation, Harry literally surrendered, giving himself over to complete abandon.

---------------------

Draco was totally unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that lying close to Harry aroused in him. Oh, he had entertained dreams and fantasies about being with Harry, but the reality far surpassed every expectation Draco could ever have imagined. And he had imagined a few, let me tell you. In his dreams he had claimed Harry in every way possible. He had fantasised about taking Harry over the arm of his living room sofa, Harry screaming his pleasure loudly and violently. He'd imagined himself tenderly seducing Harry, breaking down his defences one by one until Harry was a buttery heap, melted at his feet—that one had been a particular favourite. He'd even pictured himself going down on Harry in a public place, their unadulterated lust outmatching every cry for decency and decorum.

But never, even in his wildest dreams, had Draco ever, _ever_ imagined Harry _making love_ to him. Oh, he'd long acknowledged how he felt about the other man, but his fantasies had always been lustful, urgent, _needy_. The emotions that were threatening to overtake him at this moment, however, while raw and real, were also tender, acknowledging, affectionate and pure. Harry was treating him like a prized treasure, a long-coveted bounty that suddenly had come to light—like a treasured possession that deserved nothing less than complete and utter protection and unconditional love. Draco was overcome by the tenderness of it. He felt as if he was suddenly surrounded by a hundred fluffy white bunnies, all nuzzling him, and _squeed_ delightedly to himself. Oh, bring on the fluff! He could handle it! Especially if it was _Harry_ who was doing the fluffing.

Harry nipped his way down Draco's neck, gently teasing the sensitive skin of his throat before sucking deeply. Draco arched up in need, whimpering to get closer, to get more. Harry's hands were caressing him in slow circles from his shoulders, down over his ribs, where they lingered momentarily to lightly massage his nipple, before moving down to his hip and then softly, ever-so-gently, down the back of his thigh, coming back up to rest near the crease of his arse.

Draco groaned when Harry began to lick down the length of his chest, stopping to blow lightly on the soft pale hairs there before continuing to lick delicate strokes down to his navel, where he dipped in his tongue. Oh, _God_! The bunnies disappeared as the fire in his belly suddenly flared white hot, shooting straight to his cock, which was now rubbing against the crook of Harry's neck. Holy _fuck_, if he got any harder he would burst! Reaching down he gripped Harry's shoulders before running his hands up Harry's neck and coming to rest in his surprisingly soft, black hair. His grip suddenly tightened when Harry moved down to nuzzle the thatch of hair below, rubbing his nose and mouth against the base of Draco's erection, causing an exquisite friction that nearly drove Draco insane.

_Oh holy mother of God_! Draco wished he knew some more descriptive expletives to describe the incredibly intense sensations purring through his body. Harry licked up Draco's length and then the world was suddenly consumed in blinding light as Harry mouthed the head and sucked deeply. Draco couldn't restrain himself from thrusting up into Harry's mouth, and when Harry's resulting _Mmmmm_ thrummed against his skin he nearly blacked out with bliss.

Suddenly there was a loud _crack_, and Draco thought that maybe he _had_ blacked out, or was hallucinating from the sheer pleasure he was experiencing. He was quickly brought back to reality, however, when a sharp voice rent the air.

"Harry! How dare you leave me like that!" Draco opened his eyes to the torridly lobster-red face of Harry's ex staring rudely down at them. "At our bonding, Harry! It was supposed to be the best day of my life!" When Harry didn't respond, she stood back and put her hands on her hips crossly. "Harry! Are you listening to me?"

Harry looked up at her then, his mouth still around Draco erection. "Hmmmm?" Draco groaned loudly as the sound vibrated around him again and Harry turned his attention back to sucking and licking once more.

Ginny huffed loudly and crossed her arms. "Get your mouth off his dick for one second please, and talk to me!" Another loud _crack_, and Molly appeared in the doorway. Hurrying over toward her daughter, she grabbed Ginny's arm and scolded her. "What on earth do you think you're doing, young lady!" She turned then and looked apologetically at Draco, who had lifted himself onto his elbows to watch the scene. "So sorry for the intrusion, my dears. Please carry on." She smiled sweetly at Draco. Harry merely looked up and nodded absently.

"But Mum! Harry left me at the altar!" she screamed back at the top of her lungs. "I won't be treated like that!"

"Can't you see they're busy?" Molly shrieked. "I know you're angry, Ginny, but there's nothing you can do about it! And this is hardly the time to be confronting him, is it?" She grabbed Ginny by the arm then, and they both Disapparated with a pop.

Draco furrowed his brows for a minute, not quite sure whether he _was_ hallucinating, or whether two Weasley women had, in fact, just had a brawl in Harry's bedroom while Harry was sucking him off. It was bizarre to say the least, and Draco momentarily considered stopping Harry to ask if he'd thought that was strange. Then he looked down and remembered where he was and what Harry was doing to him, and the white hot burn of desire engulfed him once more. Dropping his head back onto the bed, he arched up into Harry's hot mouth, feeling himself getting closer and closer to exploding.

Harry ran his tongue from base to head, dipping his tongue into the slit before taking the head in his mouth once again. Draco whimpered in ecstasy as he felt the tension building, knowing he was just moments away.

"Harry, I can't…" He could barely get the words out, he was so overcome. "Harry, I… _ohhhhhh!_"

Harry moaned around him at Draco's words and sucked down fiercely, and Draco came like fireworks, sparks igniting behind his clenched eyelids as he pulsed spasmodically down Harry's throat. Harry continued to lick and suck lightly until Draco was completely spent and then he moved up to lie on top of Draco again, Harry's own erection pressing fiercely against his hip. Draco reached up and pulled the other man down into a bruising kiss, thrusting his tongue into his lover's mouth with force, and Harry responded by pressing his cock fiercely against him in need.

Without breaking the kiss, Harry summoned a tube from the drawer of the nightstand and then pulled back slightly, almost breathless. "Draco, you'll have to help me out here," he began awkwardly, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed. Draco thought he'd never seen anything quite so sweet as an embarrassed and lustful Harry and, reaching a hand up to gently pull Harry's face back toward him, he lifted his head slightly to meet his lips, sucking softly in a gesture of reassurance.

"You're doing fine so far," he replied in between kisses. "You need to prepare me. Start with one finger," he whispered, spreading his legs and raising his knees to allow better access. Harry's eyes went dark as he sat back and watched Draco spread himself so wantonly before him. Oh yes, he could almost feel Harry's generous cock inside him already. Draco laid back and arched his spine seductively. Moving forwards slightly, Harry ran is hands down the insides of Draco's thighs, leaving a trail of goose bumps as his fingers barely grazed the surface, ghosting back and forth across the sensitive skin and moving closer and closer, before finally cupping his sack and gently squeezing. Draco groaned and lifted his hips, quickly sliding a pillow under as Harry reached for the tube and unscrewed the lid. God, this was going to be beyond brilliant, he just knew it.

After applying a generous amount of lube to both his fingers and his length, Harry reached back down and sought Draco's entrance, pressing a finger tentatively against it. Draco tensed for a second and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for Harry to breach him. He'd never bottomed before and he wasn't entirely sure, all of a sudden, if he was going to like it at all. But he was prepared to do anything for his Harry, so he braced himself. The initial breech was less painful than he'd anticipated and he sighed and relaxed as Harry gently worked his muscles, adding another, then another digit until Draco felt himself fully stretched. It didn't feel bad at all, he decided. In fact, it felt rather nice. Suddenly, a blinding shot of desire ran up his spine and he gasped. Oh _fuck_! That felt _brilliant_! He opened his eyes to see Harry gazing down at him with sultry eyes still dark with need, but there was that feeling again. Yes _that_! And he was shutting his eyes against another onslaught of pure bliss. _Oh God_! He needed Harry inside him. _Now_!

_Crack! _

What? Draco's eyes snapped open and blinked rapidly as Ginny marched across the room, one of the twins in tow—George, Draco thought—grabbing and ripping the fluffy white folds of her skirt as he tried to pull her back. Her hair had come half out of its do and was dangling messily on one side of her face.

"Ginny, what the bloody hell! You can't keep doing this!" George yelled, before yanking hard at her skirt. She fell back against him, but wouldn't be put off. Draco thought she looked rather like one of those mad women on _Bridezillas_.

"Let go of me. I'm going to kill him!" Ginny lurched forwards again and Draco moved back up onto his elbows, frowning at Harry, who merely rolled his eyes and continued to finger Draco's nether regions.

"Go away, Ginny. Can't you see we're busy?" Harry spared her a quick glare before returning to his gentle ministrations, leaning down to place light kisses across Draco's chest and up his neck. Draco dropped his head back to expose more of his throat and Harry groaned and sucked enthusiastically.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me!" Ginny tried to wrench herself out of George's grasp—unsuccessfully, thank God—and presently there was another _crack_ as Fred appeared and rushed around to grab her arms.

"Ginny, we're going…," Fred yelled

"…to take you back!" George finished.

_Crack!_

"I really must change those wards," Harry mumbled against Draco's neck, before removing his fingers and lining himself up against Draco's entrance.

"Harry? Don't you find these interruptions rather odd?" Draco frowned at how blasé Harry appeared. I mean, really, Draco was quite amenable to voyeurism, but this was just too much!

Harry's eyes were screwed shut as he pushed his erection against Draco's hole, slowly breaching him and then moving very carefully in an inch or two. "Oh, _God_, Draco!" he gasped.

"Harry?"

"Mmmmm?" Harry pushed in a little further, his face a mask of concentration.

"The Weasley's, Harry? Do they often just pop into your bedroom?" Draco leaned back again to allow Harry to fully sheath himself, closing his eyes and trying to relax again. Bloody hell, it was lucky he'd already gotten off once. At this rate there was no _way_ he was getting hard again.

Harry pushed the remainder of his length into Draco and stopped, his face flushed. "Um, yeah. They've been driving me crazy for years," he whispered in reply, as he finally opened his eyes and looked down at Draco. "Oh, God, you feel incredible." Harry pulled back slowly and then thrust back in, beginning to build a rhythm, thrusting slowly in and then quickly out again, causing Draco to almost scream—that is, holler in a manly way—when he repeatedly hit his sensitive spot. _Fuck_! He never knew bottoming could feel so bloody _brilliant_! Draco immediately forgot about the weird intrusions as he relished the delightful feel of Harry pounding into him.

_Crack!_

This time Harry looked over to where Ginny had appeared once again in the doorway, her dress in tatters, her hair a ginger tangle, and mascara trails running down her face. "Fuck you, Harry!" she spat. "You deserve each other! You flaming fag! You fucking shirt-lifter!" Her face was bright red by this stage and Draco hoped she wouldn't pop a vein in her fury. (Well, it wouldn't do to have blood spurting all over Harry's nice rug, now would it?) "You frigging poofter!" She finished, before Disapparating with a very loud bang. Well! How _rude_! There was no need for name-calling, Draco thought. Harry was well shot of that nasty little biarch.

But Harry had returned his attention to the task at hand and Draco relaxed again as Harry began to thrust harder and faster. Oh, there—yes, _there_! Draco lifted his hips and thrust up as Harry thrust down. They were both sweating and panting heavily and with every thrust Draco could feel himself getting closer and closer. Draco reached down between them and grabbed his cock, pulling roughly in time with Harry's movements. Oh _fuck_! S_o good_! Draco bit his bottom lip as the tension built in his thighs and belly and, when Harry cried out as he came violently, Draco followed suit almost immediately, spurting hot cum over both their bodies for what seemed like an incredible length of time.

Eventually coming down from his orgasm, Draco opened his eyes to find Harry, who was still breathing heavily, looking directly at him, a tender smile ghosting his lips. He didn't want to let go—he _never_ wanted to let go—and he sighed as he remembered that, although he and Harry were bonded, there was no way Harry could ever love him. Feeling tears prick at his eyes, he tried to will away the sudden despair that engulfed him, the despair of knowing that such bliss would never be had again. Sighing, he clutched Harry to him one last time and gently kissed him on the mouth, hoping that the intensity of the emotions that overwhelmed him didn't show on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 5**

After several long minutes, Harry finally released Draco's lips and pulled away to look down at the other man who lay against the pillow, his eyes still closed, long, pale lashes casting tiny shadows against his cheeks. _You look beautiful like this_. Harry couldn't tear his gaze away, though he tried several times. He knew he had some explaining to do. He didn't want to scare Draco away, though, with any bald confessions of love. No, Draco would run a mile if he knew how Harry really felt. _Your hair is like spun silk._ Harry sighed, restraining himself from stroking the long blond locks. If he wanted Draco to stay with him, to get to know him properly, then he had to think of a plan, and fast. Now that the bond was completely activated there was no reason for Draco to be with him like this. But he could live with that. _I want to lie in your arms and never let go._ For now. As long as Draco stayed with him.

As Draco's eyes finally began to flutter open, Harry made a plan. Steeling himself, he pulled back and rolled over onto the bed to land on his back. He stretched languorously, reaching his arms up over his head, and sighed. "Well, I think that did the trick!" He stretched once more then moved to lay on his side, facing Draco, his head resting on his hand. "Thanks for that! You got me out of a tight spot." He reached over then and placed his hand on the other man's arm. "I really enjoyed it, too. You were wonderful."

Draco turned to look at him then, his eyes unreadable. Harry hoped he wouldn't immediately insist on leaving. Draco looked at him for a few moments then rolled over to face him, duplicating Harry's position on the bed.

"Don't mention it. You're a bloody good shag yourself. Not bad at all for a first-timer." He smirked and Harry grinned in relief. Well, at least Draco wasn't angry or regretful. "Although, you could do with some more practice." He leered at Harry suggestively, and Harry felt his cheeks flush with heat.

"Erm… sure, um… anytime." _God!_ Draco thought he was a good shag! Well, _that_ was a start. Harry rolled onto his back again and looked at the ceiling, not sure whether his plan was going to work. "So, er… I don't suppose you'd be up to hanging around here for a few days? You know, until the gossip dies down?" Harry glanced over quickly at the other man and, noting his frown, groaned inwardly. It was too much, too soon. Why would Draco want to stay, for God's sake?

"Depends on what you mean by 'stay a few days'," Draco replied non-committally.

_I mean, stay with me forever and never leave me! _"Well, um… no doubt the press will have a field day with this, so if you could stay here, it would make my story more believable." Harry couldn't look at him. He held his breath as he waited for Draco's reply.

"And just what _is_ your _story_, Harry? Why did you react that way at the chapel?" Draco sat up then and looked at him curiously. "I mean, obviously you wanted to get out of bonding with Ginny…." Draco was looking at him expectantly.

_Oh, God, it's you. It's you, and only you I want to be bonded to. _Harry sat up as well and looked around for his clothes. They were strewn around the room. Hopping off the bed, he plucked his robe from the hook on the back of the door and threw it on quickly before opening the wardrobe. Rummaging inside, he pulled out another robe and tossed it to Draco.

"Here. It's rather chilly…."

"You still haven't answered my question." Draco pulled on the robe but remained looking at Harry, his eyebrows raised.

Harry's face flushed as he moved to sit back on the bed. "Well, it's complicated. I just kind of fell into a routine of people telling me what to do. Then all of a sudden, you drop in and I have a chance to do something for myself, for once."

"Bonding to me was doing something for yourself." It was a statement, not a question. Draco smirked at him, eyebrows still raised, this time in disbelief.

"Well, erm…" Harry was starting to sweat. "It was more the _not bonding_ to Ginny. I know it was impulsive but since we were accidentally bonded anyway, I suppose I just took advantage of the opportunity to make it look real." Bloody hell, if he didn't watch himself, he'd give the whole shebang away. Time to regroup.

Jumping up off the bed, Harry rubbed his hands over his arms and shivered. "It's freezing in here. Why don't I go make us some dinner while you have a shower and I'll get the place warmed up?"

Draco blinked at the sudden change of subject, but nodded in response. "Sounds good to me, seeing as we missed out on the reception. I'm starved."

------------------------

Looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Draco grinned. He would have called it a smirk himself, if you'd asked—grins are _so_ plebeian, more suited to a Weasley than a Malfoy—but, in actual fact, the kind of smile that appeared on Draco's face at that moment couldn't really be called anything but a full-on, split-your-face grin. Indeed, "goofy" would go a long way in describing just how big and fluffy that smile was. Tiny woodland birds fluttered and twittered around in glee and little pink fairies rained sparkles down on that grin, it was so adorable.

He was bonded to Harry for _life_ and Harry wanted him to _stay_! _Harry wanted him_! Against all odds, he, Draco Malfoy, would be staying with—_living_ with, in pure, unadulterated marital bliss—Harry Potter. Well, for the foreseeable future, anyway. And for much longer than that, if Draco had his way.

Draco preened himself in front of the mirror, silently congratulating himself on his skills in the bedroom. For he was certain that was what had sealed the deal, so to speak—not only the bond, though that, of course, was definitely sealed for life. Which in itself was enough to create that grin—er, smirk. But the fact that Harry had obviously enjoyed his first gay sexual encounter, and that Draco had been the one to give it to him. Well, he just _knew_ he had Harry in the palm of his hand. He could tell by the look on the other man's face—pure _lust_, it had been. Lust for Draco. Oh, yes, he was sure he could keep Harry well-entertained and begging for more for as long as it took. If Harry wasn't his by the end of the week, he declared to himself, he would hang up his hat as Shag Queen—er, King—forever.

The shower felt good against his skin and he stood under it, letting the warm water trickle down over his body, for what seemed like hours. He washed himself thoroughly, surprised that Harry had such a high-end range of bath products. For a blokey bloke, Harry was turning out to be rather more gay than he'd originally expected. Perhaps the man was in denial, he pondered. Well, that gave him all the more reason to execute his plan! Smiling to himself, he quickly dried off and combed his hair, before pulling on the soft terry robe Harry had lent him. He padded out to the kitchen, drawn by a delicious aroma.

Harry was standing at the stove, his back to Draco, and Draco lost no opportunity in sidling up behind him. Snaking his arms around Harry's waist, he leaned in and kissed Harry's gorgeously tanned neck, before leaning his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"What's that you're cooking? Smells divine."

Harry grinned at him as he stirred a pot of sauce. "Eventually, it's going to be Chicken Parmagiana. This is the sauce. I hope you like garlic."

Draco _loved_ garlic. And he loved that Harry was cooking garlic for _him_. Though he'd have to do a minty breath charm after, since he didn't have any wizard mints with him. It wouldn't do for one to be reeking of garlic, especially when one was planning to shag the daylights out of one Harry Potter again sometime soon. "I suppose it'll do," he replied. Harry set the spoon on the bench then, and turned to Draco, pulling him close.

_Oh!_ Harry latched his lips onto Draco's throat in a way that made his very veins sizzle and hum. And the tune they were humming was no syrupy Disney classic, let me tell you. Oh, no, there were no princesses or woodland creatures _anywhere_ in the vicinity; this was _Last Tango in Paris_ all the way. _All_ the way. Draco dropped his head back as Harry's tongue lapped down his throat, sending a wave of white-hot desire directly to his groin. _Oooooh! Give it to me, baby!_ God. _Last Tango in Paris,_ be damned, he thought This had _Hot Studs_ written all over it.

_Flash! _

Draco's arm flew up as a bright light exploded before his eyes. Harry swivelled around quickly and threw his own arm up as bulbs flashed at them through the kitchen window.

"What the fuck?" Harry marched over to the window, where at least six reporters were jostling with photographers to get a look at them, and roughly pulled the blind down. "Bloody paparazzi!" he growled as he pulled Draco back to him and kissed him forcefully. Draco hoped his hair looked good and wished he had on his own black silk robe. The colour was so much more flattering than the baby blue one Harry had lent him. Photographs could be so unflattering!

"Come on, Harry! Let us in! Give us a story!" There was a pounding on the front door and Harry pulled away again and frowned.

"Why won't they ever leave me alone?"

"Poor Harry, they must drive you mental," Draco purred as he stroked Harry's furrowed brow. At least he had showered and he still had that fresh post-shagged glow to his face. He wondered if he had time to transform his formal robes into something more casual before the reporters broke in. He looked positively fuck-able in jeans and a preppy button-up shirt, even if he did say so himself.

Harry strode into the living room and, retrieving his wand from the coffee table, threw several strong Locking Spells at the door and windows. He followed those with a Silencing Spell before huffing back into the kitchen and turning off the stove.

"Bloody sauce is ruined!" he grumbled, turning to Draco. "Sorry, love. Looks like we'll have to order in."

_Sorry, love. _Draco's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Sorry, _love_…. Oh, there were the bunnies again—_and_ the woodland birds…. Harry reached behind Draco's neck and, pulling him close, kissed the very tip of his nose. Oh, and there were the _fairies_! Draco was completely lost in that small gesture, and fell into Harry's arms, snuggling close as Harry rained kisses all over his face.

"I really am sorry for all this." Harry looked at him worriedly. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave." His emerald eyes—no, they were more absinthe—gazed into Draco with apprehension.

Draco's heart melted completely and he stroked Harry's back reassuringly. "I've got an idea. Why don't we go to my place? The paparazzi will never get past the Manor wards." He cocked his head to one side and put on his most sincere look. Oh, what he wouldn't do to have Harry safely ensconced in his own private suite, where he belonged. By the time Draco was finished with him, Harry would never want to leave.

"Are—are you sure?" Harry frowned, but sounded hopeful. "What about your parents?"

"They're in Europe for another month. We'll have the place all to ourselves," Draco whispered against Harry's lips, longing fervently for Harry to say yes.

"Well, if you're sure?" Harry responded, pulling back to look in his eyes once more. The fairies jumped in glee and punched the air. _Yes!_

"Of course. Let's go pack a bag and get out of here." Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him toward the bedroom. After waving his wand to make his cooking efforts disappear, Harry followed him into the bedroom and made short work of packing a bag.

"I haven't showered," Harry looked down at himself and wrinkled his nose. "_Tergio!_ Ouch!" He grimaced as his body and hair suddenly became squeaky clean. "I hate using that spell." Slipping into clean jeans and a sweater, he pulled some casual leather shoes out of the closet and sat on the bed to put them on, watching Draco dress out of the corner of his eye.

Of course Draco didn't miss _that_. He made sure he was facing Harry as he slowly pulled on his dress trousers and silk shirt, making a show of doing up the buttons slowly, one by one. Harry was staring at him with his mouth slightly open by the time Draco looked up properly, and he grinned inwardly—it was the goofy grin, with interest, and Draco didn't even care. Oh, Harry was _so_ his!

"Ready?" he asked as Harry walked over to pick up his bag.

"You bet. Let's get out of here," he replied. Draco put his arm around Harry's waist and Apparated them to the Manor.

Within moments, they had arrived in a large marble foyer lined with portraits and sporting an enormous chandelier, which hung from the centre of the magnificently ornate, pressed metal ceiling.

"Wow!" Harry looked around, impressed, and Draco swelled with pride.

"Let's get you settled, shall we? Then we can eat." Draco took Harry's bag from him and dropped it on the floor.

"Naesy!" he called and a little house elf appeared with a pop.

"Yes, Master Draco?" She bowed low, the little pink ruffled tea-towel she was wearing rustling crisply.

"Please take Mister Potter's things up to my suite and then prepare us some dinner."

"Oh yes, Master Draco. Naesy is _always_ happy to do _anything_ for Master Draco!" She picked up Harry's bag and disappeared with a pop.

Draco pulled Harry towards him then, circling his arms around Harry's waist. "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Harry leaned forward and sucked lightly on the pulse of Draco's throat. "I believe we were here," he replied between kisses up Draco's neck, stopping to nibble his earlobe.

Draco arched into Harry and groaned as Harry's mouth moved to lick the shell of his ear, before probing inside, and Draco's knees nearly buckled as a spike of pure lust ripped through him. He pulled the other man closer, wanting to feel every part of him, wanting to breathe in the spicy scent that was uniquely Harry. The feel of their bodies flush against each other was something Draco couldn't even describe, but it felt so good.

Grabbing a chunk of Harry's hair he brutally pulled the other man's mouth to his own, bruising his lips as they crushed against his. Harry responded in kind, sucking on Draco's tongue and running his hands under Draco's robes, feeling for the waist of his pants, where he proceeded to rip the silk shirt out in search of bare skin. The touch of Harry fingers against his skin lit up every nerve ending and Draco felt himself break into goose bumps at the touch.

When Harry's fingers moved around to Draco's bare back, he shivered and pulled him even closer, pressing his hardness against the corresponding bulge in Harry's jeans. Slowly, they moved against each other, the gentle friction so delicious, even between all the layers of fabric. Harry ran his hands down Draco's back, barely grazing the skin, before reaching to cup the firm mounds of his arse.

Oh, _God_! He couldn't stand another _minute_. He had to have Harry _right here_. Sliding his hands up under Harry's sweater he massaged the firm skin of his chest and stomach until Harry's muscles clenched in response and he groaned loudly. Draco made quick work of getting the sweater off before moving a hand down to cup Harry's erection through his jeans. He rubbed the area gently before deftly moved his hands to the waistband and unbuttoning the fly. Harry was as hard as a rock and Draco pressed into him again as he continued to plunder Harry's mouth greedily.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. Pulling away, he looked into those deep green eyes, and then dropped to his knees to nuzzle Harry through his boxers. Harry groaned again and thrust against him as Draco mouthed his hardness through the fabric. This was more than he'd ever wanted, he thought. Harry, right here, like this. He gently nipped up and down the fabric, moving his hands up to grasp Harry by the waist.

Slipping his hands down to the waistband of Harry's boxers, he dipped his fingers under and pulled the elastic down, dragging both boxers and jeans down until they pooled around Harry's ankles. He marvelled at the perfection before him and softly blew against the head, lightly running his fingers up and down the shaft in a teasing touch, until Harry moaned in need.

"God! Please…" Draco smiled but didn't disappoint him, moving forward to gently lick up the length before taking the head into his mouth and sucking softly.

"Oh, Draco… That's… _Oooooh_…"

Draco worked the base of Harry's cock with his hand while he alternated between sucking and licking his tongue over the head, lapping up the white liquid that oozed out. Harry began thrusting into Draco's mouth and Draco put his hands on his hips to restrain him. He wanted this to last. He wanted Harry to come so hard he would see stars.

Moving his hands around to the backs of Harry's thighs he gently massaged the sensitive skin until the soft hairs stood on end and Harry began to thrust faster into his mouth. Draco pulled back slightly then and slowed the pace, moving his hand to massage the base, twisting and rubbing until Harry was almost beside himself.

"Please… please…."

Draco finally took pity on the man and, taking as much of his cock into his mouth as he could, sucked hard. His cheeks hollowed out with the effort as he took more in, as much as he could before his throat closed up. Harry's hands were in his hair and he was moaning, his legs quivering and his head thrown back as the tension built up.

Draco cupped Harry's sac with his other hand and when he felt the tightening he sucked down on Harry as hard as he could and Harry cried out as he exploded in Draco's mouth. Oh, but he tasted like the nectar of the gods! Draco hungrily swallowed every last drop. After several long moments, he eventually pulled back and looked up.

Harry was gazing down at him, his eyes half-lidded. Reaching down, he pulled Draco to his feet and kissed him gently on the mouth, his hands lightly stroking Draco's back through the fabric of his shirt.

"Fuck, that was amazing." Harry whispered against Draco's lips.

"Would Master Draco like his dinner now, sir?" They jumped apart in shock and Draco turned to find the little elf bobbing up and down in front of him.

"Naesy! How long have you been standing there!" Draco flushed in mortification. How bloody embarrassing!

"Naesy has been here for a long time, Master Draco." She smiled at him sweetly and nodded, her head bobbing up and down in time with the rest of her. "Naesy didn't want to disturb Master Draco. But Naesy is covering her eyes…" She coughed then and looked down at the floor. "…mostly."


	6. Chapter 6

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 6**

BOY WHO LIVED IN GAY SEX RING -- EX-FIANCE REVEALS ALL

The Boy Who Lived is once again the subject of controversy. Sources close to Ginny Weasley, who was to have been bonded with Harry Potter yesterday evening at the Ottery St Catchpole Chapel, revealed that the ceremony was crashed by members of a gay sex ring. One of the members, it was reported—local celebrity, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune and Senior Potions Master with the Ministry of Magic—led the band of young men into the chapel in what has been described as an attack of vigilante proportions. It seems that Harry Potter, one of the Ministry's most highly decorated Aurors, is also a member of this cultist sex ring and had planned to abandon his wife after the ceremony to engage in numerous acts of debauchery in a club known as _Gay Boys Abandoned_. His cult-mates, however, decided to jump the gun and steal him away from his intended bride, breaking the bonding at the very last minute, causing Mr. Potter to bond with Mr. Malfoy instead of Ms. Weasley. Rita Skeeter was invited to speak to the aggrieved ex-fiancé in an exclusive interview for the Daily Prophet, and reports here directly from the source.

"There were at least ten of them," Ms. Weasley reported. "And they were all wearing leather pants and carrying whips! It was awful!" Ms. Weasley was overcome as she told our reporter of the carnage that ensued from the kidnapping. Apparently Mr. Malfoy Apparated Mr Potter to a secret location, leaving the rest of his deviant gang to destroy what was left of the bonding celebrations.

"It was chaos," George Weasley, brother of the bride, testified. "Ginny was beside herself. We don't blame Harry, though." Mr. Weasley recalled that the event happened just as the final blessing was about to take place. Mr. Malfoy insinuated himself between the bride and her groom and managed to whisk Mr. Potter away after practically raping him on the dais. 

The bride's mother, Mrs. Molly Weasley, concurred. "It was disgusting! Ginny just couldn't cope at all." She had to restrain her daughter several times when Ms. Weasley became hysterical. Well, who wouldn't be overcome when their intended groom was kidnapped at the crucial moment?

The Ministry of Magic reports that they are currently undertaking investigations into the incident and several Aurors have been assigned to the case. If proven guilty of kidnapping and lewd behaviour in public, Mr. Malfoy could face up to two years in Azkaban and a fine of ten thousand galleons. Full report, p.3.

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxxx

"What the _fuck_?" Harry angrily threw the paper down onto the table in front of Draco. "Have a look at this!" Harry stood up, scraping his chair back roughly, and began pacing the room in fury.

Draco looked up from his tea with a frown when the paper hit the table in front of him. "What is it? Paparazzi again?" He eagerly pulled the paper toward him, hoping the photos were flattering. Well, of course, it was difficult to take a bad photo of someone as utterly photogenic as himself, he noted, but still, he hoped they'd got his good side. He had a very small wrinkle at the corner of his left eye—not that you could even see it unless you were really close—but his right side was just ever-so-fractionally better. Pulling his reading glasses out of his pocket, he popped them on his nose to examine the front-page photograph, which wasn't too bad at all. Well, well, being attached to Harry did have its perks, he smirked inwardly to himself.

The photo, which showed him kissing Harry in the kitchen of Harry's London flat, was quite flattering, for the most part, although half of his face was hidden. Harry certainly looked entirely lustful, as if nothing and no one else in the world existed besides Draco. Harry was almost worshipping him with his lips. Hmmmm. Draco bet that would flutter more than a few hearts—no doubt they'd be receiving owls by the dozen before the morning was over.

"Nice picture, Harry. You look absolutely smitten. Good job!" He smirked over at Harry, who was staring at him in disbelief.

"W-what? Wh-what photo?" Harry sputtered as he marched back to the table to pick up the paper again. "What about the headlines! The _story_, Draco! Didn't you read it?" Harry shoved the paper under Draco's nose, causing him to sit back abruptly and frown again. Taking the paper out of Harry's hand, he looked more closely at the front page. After scanning the headline and first paragraph, he looked back up at Harry, barely suppressing a chuckle.

"Are you kidding me? Who'd ever believe that rubbish?" Draco began to chuckle softly as he continued to read. "Leather pants and whips? Oh, Lord, that's just too, too much!" He began to really laugh out loud when he read the part about raping Harry on the dais. "I raped you? On the _dais_, of all places? In… in _public_?" Draco doubled over with laughter and clutched his stomach. "Oh, get me a recording of that! Please! I'll add it to my collection of _Draco Does Dallas_ videos." With that he almost fell off his chair, tears streaming from his eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes as he took the paper back and went over the story again. He shook his head at Draco, who was trying to regain control over his laughter. Wiping his eyes with a cloth napkin, Draco finally managed to calm down, though he could still feel the giggles bubbling just under the surface. Finally regaining his composure, he reached over and took the paper out of Harry's hand and threw it on a nearby console.

"Harry, if people are going to believe that rubbish, then they're even more stupid than I thought. As if the Ministry of Magic would waste valuable resources on investigating such claptrap." He looked up at Harry, who was nodding, finally, and even smiling slightly.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He frowned again, though, as he sat back in his chair. "They've blamed you, though, and that's not right. It was all my fault. You were drunk and I could have protested when you broke into the bonding." He looked at Draco worriedly, and Draco thought the little creases on his forehead were just endearing beyond belief. Harry was staring at him with such adorable sincerity, Draco was tempted to just jump across the table and take him right there. Harry's eyes began to widen as Draco continued to gaze at him in lustful contemplation.

"What?" Harry asked. 

Draco suddenly came back to himself. "Oh, nothing. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?" Now Harry had his curious face on and _Oh!_ If _that_ wasn't even _more_ adorable! Draco wanted to eat Harry right up—or at least, eat him all over, if you know what I mean. Ahem.

Harry had slept in Draco's bed last night, at Draco's insistence—for the good of 'the story,' of course. It wouldn't do for reporters to hear that Harry had slept in the guest bedroom, now would it? Harry didn't seem to mind at all. Indeed, they'd barely slept, Draco remembered smugly. Harry had been all over him, insisting on ravishing him again—just to be certain of the bond, he'd said—and they'd woken late this morning wrapped in each other's arms. Harry's arm had been thrown across Draco's chest and their legs had been entwined in the most seductive manner. Draco had carefully rolled onto his side and wiggled back against Harry until his arse rubbed erotically against the other man. Feigning sleep, he'd languidly acquiesced when Harry had awoken moments later with morning wood and begged to violate Draco for the third time in twelve hours. Oh, yes, this was going to be _much_ easier than he'd thought. Though it would be nice to top once in a while, he mused.

"Oh, um, nothing at all, really." Draco fluttered his eyelashes seductively at Harry and was pleased when Harry flushed pink. "I was just thinking how cute you look when you're mad." He reached across the table then, and grazed his thumb gently across the crease in Harry's forehead before bringing his palm down to cup Harry's cheek. Harry nuzzled into it and turned his head slightly to kiss the skin of Draco's palm, sliding his slightly parted lips across the soft flesh before reaching for Draco's hand with his own and drawing his tongue lightly up the middle finger. Draco gasped when Harry slid the digit into his mouth and began to suck softly. Oh…. Harry pulled the finger slowly out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks in a way that made Draco squirm in his seat and adjust his trousers. Then Harry was kissing the tender skin on the inside of his wrist—butterfly kisses that barely ghosted over the flesh as Harry's lips moved languorously up his arm, stopping to suck at the pale inside of Draco's elbow. _Oooooh_…. 

Draco was leaning so far over the table by this time that their faces were almost touching. Draco could feel the other man's breath huff his skin, could smell the clean fragrance of his hair as it brushed against his chin, and nearly swooned when Harry eventually lifted his head and lightly touched his lips to Draco's. _Oh… Harry_. Draco's heart leapt out of his chest as Harry placed chaste kisses against his mouth, gently nibbling the plump flesh of Draco's bottom lip. As their breathes mingled, Draco thought he could die happy, right here, right now, it was so perfect.

"Ahem. Master Draco?" Draco jerked back at the intrusion and looked furiously at Naesy who was again bobbing on the carpet in from of him, her fingers splayed over her eyes. "There is someone wanting to see Master Draco, sir." Draco eyed Naesy suspiciously. He _knew_ she could see through those fingers!

"Naesy! How many times do I have to tell you to knock before you enter a room?"

"Naesy is _so, so sorry_, Master Draco! Perhaps Master Draco would like to _beat_ Naesy?" She looked at him hopefully, her head nodding fiercely and her big black eyes wide in anticipation.

"Whoever it is, tell them to go away." Draco sat back in his chair and Naesy pouted.

"Yes, Master Draco." She bowed and disappeared with a pop. She was back within minutes, however, her chin trembling with fear. "Master Draco? The man says he is from the Ministry of Magic and he needs to see you urgently!" She stood there wringing her hands, and Draco looked over at Harry with a frown, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. _Surely_ they couldn't _really_ be investigating him? The report in the Prophet was sheer lunacy, even for Rita Skeeter. Gay sex ring, indeed. Well, we'll see about this, thought Draco.

"Oh, let him in then." Draco sat back in his chair, an annoyed look on his face.

"I'm sure it's just a formality," Harry offered with a shrug. "I am an Auror. Surely they know I can look after myself."

The door opened and Naesy hurried in, leading Kingsley Shacklebolt behind her. The Head Auror bowed slightly when Draco and Harry stood up.

"Kingsley," Harry nodded.

"Do have a seat," Draco indicated a chair at the end of their table. "Tea?"

"Thank-you, no. As you are no doubt aware, I am here in official business," Shacklebolt took the proffered chair and seated himself, his hands clasped on the table. "The Ministry has been informed that you, Mr. Malfoy, engaged in public debauchery and kidnapping this evening just past. Is that correct?"

"Are you nuts, Shacklebolt?" Harry stood up so suddenly his chair fell over backwards. "Do I _look_ like I'm here under duress?"

Shacklebolt sat back and looked at Harry for some moments before answering. "That is not the point, Harry. We have to follow up these allegations, you know that." He turned to Draco again to resume his questioning. "Is it true, Mr. Malfoy, that you sexually assaulted Mr. Potter on the dais of the chapel in Ottery St. Catchpole last evening?"

"I bloody kissed him, for God's sake! I wouldn't call that sexual assault!" Draco rolled his eyes and sat back, folding his arms crossly.

"Nevertheless, Ms Weasley reports that you did, in fact, assault her fiancé. And we have reason to believe that it was a set-up." Shacklebolt sat forwards then and leered at Draco. "A sex ring, Mr. Malfoy, if I am not mistaken. A _gay_ sex ring." 

Harry rolled his eyes this time. "Look, Kingsley, there's no gay sex ring. There weren't ten mad, leather-clad sex-fiends at the chapel. It was just Draco and me. And we were just snogging. _Snogging_!"

"But Ms. Weasley said she saw you two engaged in homosexual acts!" Shacklebolt leered at Draco again and moved a bit closer to him, leaning his chin on his hand. "Why don't you tell me about it, Mr. Malfoy." 

"We were at my flat! In my bed!" Harry was really getting worked up now. "She intruded on us!"

"Harry's right," Draco cut in angrily, "We were two informed adults having sex in the privacy of Harry's home! I don't think that qualifies as lewd public behaviour at all!"

"Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate for me," Shacklebolt asked hopefully, "and let me be the judge."

Harry suddenly grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Excuse for a moment, Kingsley, I need to discuss something with Draco." Draco followed him out the room and into the hallway.

"What the fuck is going on with Shacklebolt? He's positively leering at you!" Harry hissed so they wouldn't be heard.

"I know! It's creepy." Draco shuddered and made a face. "Ewwww."

"Look, I don't know if this is someone's idea of a practical joke, or what. Let's just try to get rid of him, okay?" Harry peered around the edge of the door, but Shacklebolt's back was to him. "I'll tell him we're busy and that we'll go down for questioning first thing tomorrow." Draco nodded in response, straightening his shirt as he followed Harry back into the room.

"Kingsley! What are you doing?" Harry stared at the Head Auror in shock. Draco peered over Harry's shoulder and blanched. Shacklebolt was sitting on the sofa, naked except for a pair of white leather chaps and a white leather thong. He was casually flicking a white leather whip across the arm of the sofa.

"Come on, boys! I know what you're up to." Shacklebolt stood up and moved stealthily towards them, his smooth black chest glistening with sweat and his white thong tenting ominously. "Let's forget all about this little… _investigation_ … shall we, and get down to, er… business." He flicked the whip in the air, making a loud cracking sound.

"Naesy!" Draco bellowed at the top of his voice. The diminutive house-elf appeared almost immediately.

"Yes, master Draco?" She bowed low, then looked up, her eyes going even wider than usual at the sight of before her.

"Please show Auror Shacklebolt out," Draco was backing towards the door, as the Head Auror continued advancing on them. 

"Er, yes, we, er, have an appointment this morning." Harry moved in front of Draco. "Let's take this up at a later sate, shall we? Draco and I are happy to go down to, er…"

Shacklebolt advanced on them with more speed until they were backed up against the wall. "Go down… Oh, yes, I like the sound of that." He leaned forward until his face was almost flush with Harry's and licked his lips.

Draco squeeked—a sound he would later refer to as a growl—and, grabbing Harry around the waist, quickly Apparated them to his private suite.

"Fuck me! What was that?" He released Harry and fell onto the bed in utter relief. Harry drew out his wand and carefully cast several locking spells on the door before dropping down beside Draco.

"I have _no_ idea!" Flopping back onto the bed, he rubbed his face wearily. "Has everybody gone _completely_ mad?" 

_Crack!_

"Master Draco, there are two more gentleman here to see you." Naesy bowed low. "They are Mr. George Weasley and Mr. Fred Weasley."

"_God_! Why won't they all just leave us _be_?" Harry moaned.

"Maybe they're here to explain things… or to apologise," Draco replied, patting Harry consolingly on the arm. Being the Boy Who Lived certainly seemed to carry a burden of publicity, Draco thought ruefully. Even he was starting to get annoyed by all the attention. Were they _ever _going get five minutes to themselves? How was he supposed to work his plan when they were constantly being interrupted.

"Fine, let's see what they have to say." Harry sat up with a heavy sigh.

"Naesy, please see them into the downstairs library." Naesy immediately disappeared with a pop. Hopping up off the bed, Draco held out his hand to the other man and smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring.

As they walked down the stairs, Harry still griping about their lack of privacy, Draco thought he heard a strange buzzing sound coming from somewhere. Cocking his ear curiously, he thought it sounded like it was coming from the library. Frowning, he turned to Harry, who had stopped on the second bottom stairs to listen as well. After listening for a few moments, he shrugged and continued to follow Draco into the library.

"So, we hear you might be in need of some kinky sex toys," Fred held out a large vibrating plastic penis, studded with gems up and down each side. It buzzed and vibrated violently in Fred's hand.

"And we also have these fantastic cock rings. Guaranteed to make you last." George opened his robes and indicated his own exposed penis, which was sporting a sparkly gold ring around its base and was fully, painfully erect. 

"We're happy to demonstrate them for you." The twins chorused together, Fred also opening his robes to reveal that he was sporting a see-through thong and two nipple rings that appeared to be rotating all by themselves.

Draco looked at Harry in horror, but Harry was advancing menacingly on the twin Weasleys. "Get the fuck out of here before I hex you into next week!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Unintended Consequences**

**Chapter 7**

"That's it!" Harry cried after the twins had finally departed. "I have had enough! Enough crazy brides. Enough overbearing families. Enough paparazzi. Enough bloody stupid rumours. Enough… interruptions!" Pulling his wand out of his sleeve, Harry strode out of the library. "I'll be back soon," he called out to Draco as he disappeared through the door. 

Draco stood for a minute and just blinked. What had just happened? God. This weekend was becoming more and more surreal. Draco suddenly felt like he had dreamt it all—the chapel, the bonding, the wonderful wedding night, Harry here at the Manor with him—surely it was all a dream. Or rather, a terrible nightmare. Only in nightmares did the world conspire against you to sabotage the one thing in your life you ever really wanted. All he wanted was Harry, to be with Harry in every way possible, to share their lives forever—and now Harry was gone. 

Draco sat on the edge of the couch and frowned as he tried to piece together the recent events in a way that made sense. But any way he looked at it, Draco could not imagine one reason why Harry would want to stay with him. Life had been a veritable nightmare from the moment he had landed on Harry in the chapel. Oh, he had seemed to like the sex, all right, but that's all it was, of course. Just sex. A way to get out of bonding with Ginny, with a bit of slap and tickle thrown in. It hadn't meant anything—to Harry at least. How could it? Harry was just looking for a way out.

Draco put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. This was possibly the worst day of his life. To almost have your dreams come true and then to have them snatched away at the very last minute—surely that was a form of torture no one should have to endure. And he was damned sure he wouldn't. No. To hell with it all. If Harry didn't want him, well, good luck to him. Draco had bigger fish to fry.

Resolving to get completely plastered for the second day in a row, Draco strode over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of the best malted whiskey he could find. Eschewing a glass, he flopped down onto the couch and lifted the bottle to his lips. As the liquid burned down his throat, he felt it wash away some of the overwhelming emotional pain that tugged at his chest. Oh, that felt good. A second swig and his heart began to feel numb around the edges. Lifting the bottle in the air, he toasted no one in particular. "Here's to finding the love of your life," he whispered before downing another mouthful. "And here's to letting go of him forever." He sighed as he leaned back against the couch and settled into the cushions. Ah, yes. This was familiar. 

Toeing off his shoes, he lifted his feet up to rest on one end of the couch, leaning back even further until he was snuggled amongst the cushions at the other end, the whiskey bottle balanced on his stomach. At this angle, all he had to do was lift his arm a little and pour the whiskey directly into his mouth, which he proceeded to do at regular intervals for the next hour. He felt himself mellow slowly, the welcome numbness creeping gently over his heart and mind until everything began to take on a rosy glow. Mmmm. There was something about drowning one's sorrows that was extremely satisfying. The world seemed so much more cosy and warm, like the feeling of that lovely amber liquid trickling down into his chest to warm his soul. As he lay there he could feel the warmth spread out and slowly engulf him in velvet folds, surrounding him in a cocoon of misty clouds. He was floating… floating, and he knew this was where he belonged… just he and the clouds, and the velvety warmth, floating, floating, into blessed oblivion.

--------------------------

Harry wasted no time in Apparating from the foyer of Malfoy Manor to the main entry hall of the Daily Prophet. Striding up to the reception desk, he pulled himself up to his full height and curtly addressed the woman behind it. "I'm looking for Rita Skeeter."

The woman didn't look up from filing her nails. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But I want to see her now."

"I'm sorry sir, but Ms. Skeeter has a busy schedule—" She stopped with a squeak when Harry leaned over the desk and grabbed her nail file.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" She said as she looked up. "Oh, dear. Of course. Of, er, course. I'll call Ms. Skeeter right away." She went to pick up the phone, but Harry put his hand over hers before she could lift it.

"And let her get away? I don't think so. Tell me what floor she's on." Harry glared at the poor woman menacingly. "Or I'll tell your boss you've been swiping stationary." It was a random guess but it paid off. The woman squeaked again, her eyes wide.

"Fourth floor. Room four-oh-eight."

Harry strode off to the elevators and quickly made his way to the fourth floor. Room 408 was down the hall on the left and as Harry approached it he drew his wand. The door was open, so he moved forward to stand in the doorway, his wand, for the moment, at his side. 

"So. Not content with bad-mouthing me?" She looked up from her desk, quickly hiding her shock at seeing Harry in her doorway. "You have to go and defame my husband, as well." Harry calmly walked towards the desk began flicking his wand into his other hand.

"Now, Mr. Potter, It's all about circulation, as I am sure you well know. And our source was your very own ex-fiancée. Are we to blame if the information we receive is… unreliable?"

"So, you knew it was a load of rubbish." Her face confirmed his suspicions, as he knew it would. "I want you to print a retraction."

Rita laughed at that, shaking her head incredulously. "Now, Mr. Potter, why on earth would I do that? Sex sells, you see."

"Because of a bug in a jar—six years ago." He leaned across the desk and steadily held her gaze. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten your little bargain with Hermione?"

All the colour drained from her face and she looked like she was about to pass out. "Thought I'd forgotten, Ms. Skeeter?" Harry growled at her and she clutched her hands to her chest in fear. Hermione had discovered she was an unregistered Animagus in their fourth year and had threatened to expose her if she continued to report Harry in a bad light.

"Oh, er, well, of course I'd be happy to accommodate your request, Mr. Potter," she stammered, picking up her quill and a piece of parchment. "So, we shall retract the allegations of the, er, gay sex ring? Not a problem, Mr. Potter." She began scribbling notes on the parchment. 'Consider it done."

Harry slammed his fist on the desk in front of her and she jumped. "Not enough! I want Draco's name cleared, do you hear me?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Potter. Of course. Why don't you sit down and we'll discuss the terms of the retraction." She nervously indicated the chair in front of her desk and Harry pulled it out gruffly and dropped into it.

"Fine. Here's what I want you to say."

When Harry finally made it back to the Manor it was well after six. He'd been gone most of the afternoon, but he was quite happy with the results of his excursion. Carefully clutching the paper under his arm, he Apparated into the foyer of the Manor—Draco had earlier adjusted the wards to allow him access—and strode towards the library, looking for his husband. 

When he walked into the room, it was dark save for a lone candle on the mantle piece. He frowned as he looked around, thinking perhaps Draco had gone up to his suite for a bath before dinner. Turning to go back out through the door, he stopped suddenly when he spied the mound of a body swathed in blankets on the couch. He smiled when he saw the tuft of blond hair poking out of the top of the velvety covers. Draco must be taking a nap. He quietly moved over to the couch and sat down on its edge, gently pulling back the covers from his husband's face.

Draco looked so peaceful, his lashes resting on his cheeks and his hair in disarray. Harry chuckled as he thought how mortified Draco would be if he knew his hair was looking so out of place. Oh, but he was gorgeous, lying there so peacefully, and Harry was loathe to wake him.

Harry sat there for a long time, watching the other man's chest rise and fall with the regular rhythm of his breathing. He leaned over and kissed Draco lightly on the temple, before sitting back and rubbing his fingers gently over his cheek. Draco was everything he ever wanted and he hoped that once everything was set to rights, Draco would accept him as his life-partner. In spite of the accidental nature of their bonding, Harry had the feeling that Draco and he had a connection that went beyond the superficial. As the other man began to stir, Harry leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. His eyes fluttered open and Harry gave him a beatific smile. 

--------------------------

Draco drifted slowly into wakefulness to the feel of soft kisses against his cheek and lips. Mmmm. He must still be dreaming, he thought. He'd dreamt of lying with Harry in his big four poster bed, cuddling under the covers on a cold winter's morning, a cosy fire burning in the grate. As he hovered on the edge of sleep he snuggled under the blankets, not wanting to wake up from his lovely dream just yet. Good old Naesy, he thought to himself. She must have covered him after he'd fallen asleep. He must remember to thank her later. But for now, more delicious snoozing was in order.

Pulling the blankets up further, he stretched his legs out languidly along the couch, and bumped against something solid. Opening his eyes slowly, he peeked out from under the covers to see green eyes gazing affectionately down at him.

"Hello, beautiful. Did you enjoy your sleep?" Harry ran his hand warmly over Draco's chest through the blankets.

"Harry?" Draco blinked blearily and gazed up through his lashes at the man hovering over him. Harry leant over and brushed his lips against Draco's and Draco thought he might still be dreaming. Harry was here? Kissing him? A nice dream, surely, but his Harry had gone and probably was never coming back. At that thought, Draco's closed his eyes again and sighed.

"Sweetheart? I have a surprise for you." 

Now that really did sound like Harry. His dreams were becoming more realistic by the minute. Again he felt the flutter of lips against his and he reached up in his dream to wrap his arms around a broad back, drawing his dream Harry down onto him and snuggling into his warmth. Suddenly the blankets were pulled aside and a warm body moved in beside him, strong hands running up his chest, lips pressing against his neck. Harry. Mmmm. The feel of those lips against his throat was exquisite and he felt as if he could lie there like this forever. With Harry. Then a warm hand was moving under his shirt and caressing his chest and those lips were on his again and he was in heaven. The lips moved against his seductively and he parted his own to taste more fully the soft plumpness of Harry's mouth. 

Then the lips were pulling back and Draco wished they would stay.

"Draco? Are you awake?" The lips were back, but raining kisses across his cheek and eyes. "Draco?" Someone was calling him and he drifted out of sleep again, opening his eyes to those gorgeous green ones. "Draco, wake up, love." Wake up, _love_. Mmmm. 

Blinking slowly, he came fully to himself and when he focussed he realised it really was Harry lying beside him, gazing down at him in amusement. 

"Wake up, love. I've got something to show you."

"Harry?" Draco moved the covers back and frowned slightly. "Where did you go? I thought… I…." But Harry was kissing him again and he knew it wasn't a dream after all.

Harry sat up, pulling Draco with him. "Come on, sleepy head." Draco let himself be pulled into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. His head was a little fuzzy, but he was none the worse for wear. When he was fully awake and sitting up, Harry got up and moved to where his coat was lying across the arm of a chair, returning shortly with something which he dropped into Draco's lap. It was the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Draco opened it with some trepidation, wondering what rumours they were printing about him now. He blinked when he saw the headline.

**HARRY POTTER TO QUIT MINISTRY**

**ALLEGATIONS OVERTURNED**

It was revealed today that the allegations of a certain gay sex ring reported in this morning's edition were unfounded. In a shock move earlier today, the Prophet's star reporter, Ms. Rita Skeeter, apologised to Mr. Potter and resigned her position. The allegations, which were originally brought to light by Mr. Potter's ex-fiancée, were apparently vexatious. Mr. Malfoy was cleared of all charges by the Ministry and will receive a formal letter of apology from the Minister himself. Mr. Potter, who is the Ministry's most decorated Auror, has resigned from his position with the Ministry, reporting that he intends to spend more time with his new spouse. Ms. Skeeter and the Daily Prophet also offer their sincere apologies for their role in the recent defamation of both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. Mr Potter's ex-fiancée, Ms. Ginny Weasley, declined to comment.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco looked at Harry, his eyes wide. "You-you're quitting?" 

"Yes, I'm quitting." Harry smiled at him uncertainly then. "I, er, want to devote all my time to you. To us. If you'll have me, that is."

Draco blinked and frowned, not quite sure whether he was hearing right. _Us?_ There was an 'Us'? And Harry wanted to spend more time with him? He looked down at the paper again, not sure if it was all real or if, in fact, he was still asleep and just dreaming it all. But there it was, in black and white for the world to see. Looking up again, Draco's heart melted at the sheer adoration on Harry's face.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I think we can arrange something." Draco smirked as he leaned forward to kiss his spouse on the lips.

"That would be Mr. Potter-Malfoy," Harry replied with a grin. And the fluffy bunnies returned with a vengeance.


	8. Epilogue

**A/N: (1) "From This Moment On" was written by Shania Twain—as if you all didn't know ;-).**

**Thanks to Naesy for her brilliant prompts for this chapter.**

**WARNING: MAJOR FLUFFY BUNNY ALERT! A reminder that this story is for the Queen of Fluff herself, Aandune, with thanks.**

**Unintended Consequences**

**Epilogue**

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the bonding of this couple in magical wedlock." It was the same officiating wizard and the same chapel in Ottery St. Catchpole, and there were already sniffs and stifled sobs amongst the congregation as the wizard solemnly affirmed the vows being exchanged by the couple on the dais. "The magical bonding of two people represents an eternal tie that can never be broken." Harry looked over at Draco, his eyes misty, and Draco smiled affectionately as they clasped their hands together. 

He never would have picked Harry as a hopeless romantic, but these past few months had certainly changed a lot of his views regarding Harry. Not only had he been showered with undying affection and numerous gifts, but Harry had done everything he could to satisfy Draco's every desire, both in and out of the bedroom. He felt utterly pampered and adored. Harry had allowed Draco free rein to decorate the new place, _oh-ing_ and _ah-ing_ and generally expressing approval at whatever furniture or accessories Draco happened to choose. The result was a tasteful but eclectic arrangement of decor that made Draco feel completely at home. Tonight would be their first night at the new place—in their new bed—and the anticipation was exquisite.

If only this bloody ceremony would hurry up and finish! Draco groaned inwardly as he leant back against his seat to watch as Ron and Hermione said their vows to each other. It's not as if he didn't appreciate the solemnity of the proceedings, and it's not as if he hadn't had his own share of fluffy-bunny moments over the past few months—indeed, the bunnies had taken up permanent residence at their place almost from day one. It's just that, when Hermione began to recite a sappy Muggle love song as her vows, it was all Draco could do to stop himself from gagging.

_From this moment I have been blessed  
I live only for your happiness  
And for your love I'd give my last breath  
From this moment on _

_I give my hand to you with all my heart  
I can't wait to live my life with you, I can't wait to start  
You and I will never be apart  
My dreams came true because of you_(1) 

_Oh Lord, spare me_. Ron was gazing at her as if she was the last delicious piece of cream pie and he was the one to get it. Which was rather a nice analogy, he mused, considering Hermione's dress looked very much like a cream puff with roses on top, with its puffy chiffon skirt and huge bloated sleeves almost engulfing her in their filmy fluffiness. What true love will make one do, he thought wryly as he snuck a glance at Harry, who was staring at the proceedings, his head cocked adorably to one side. Draco sighed as he regarded his husband's rapt expression. Oh. Well…. Fine, then. If sappy Muggle love songs were what made Harry happy, then he could do sappy. Leaning over slightly, he kissed Harry on the cheek and squeezed his hand lightly. Harry turned to him and his smile was the most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen. Ah, yes, how amazing it was that the definition of sappy was so flexible when it came to his own relationship—this kiss, this hand-squeezing, Harry's beautiful smile—these weren't sappy at all. No, these were just expressions of pure _love_.

The congregation were clapping loudly as Ron and Hermione sealed their bonding with a lingering kiss. Draco recalled the first time he'd kissed Harry, in this very chapel, and suddenly knew how incredibly lucky he was. White rose petals began drifting down from the enchanted ceiling and he laughed as they alighted on Harry's messy hair and shoulders. Brushing them away carefully, Draco leaned in and kissed Harry again, this time on the lips. When Harry pulled back his eyes were aflame as he whispered against Draco's lips. "I love you so much." Oh, _God._ That was the first time Harry had actually said it. Draco was overcome by emotion. His heart was a battering ram in his chest and he felt a distinct tingling all over, as if every nerve in his body were alight. _I love you so much_. Five small words that tipped his entire world on its side, so that it went spinning off into the universe in a never-ending spiral. His head was ringing with the delicious sound of those five small words. _I love you so much._ Could there be five more magnificent words in the entire universe?

He tried to reply, tried to tell Harry how he felt, but his throat constricted and nothing came out. Swallowing hard, he tried again.

"Harry…." His voice was hoarse. "I—I…." 

_Oh, God_. Where were the words to describe just how he felt? The warmth of Harry's love was like being wrapped in velvet blankets or caressed by clouds, or like floating on a sea of warm, wet kisses. _Harry's love. Mmmmm_. It washed over him, engulfing and seducing him, until he was but a puddle of devotion at Harry's feet.

There _were_ no words. None that could come even remotely close to expressing his feelings for Harry. So he pulled Harry close and gazed into those deep green eyes, all the sentiment suddenly bubbling up to make his own grey ones misty. Leaning in, he gently closed his lips over his husband's, willing Harry to reach into him and _feel_ the love. After long moments, when he eventually pulled back and opened his eyes, Harry was gazing at him tenderly, and he knew Harry understood. _This was love. This was forever._

The reception was held in a giant marquee at The Burrow and the festivities were very boisterous indeed. After the bride and groom had danced the first dance, the party had come alight and people began rocking like there was no tomorrow. 

Some hours later, after nearly exhausting himself swinging Luna round the floor, Draco dropped into a chair and gulped at a large glass of iced water. It was a great party, everyone was enjoying themselves, the bride and groom included, and Draco had to commend their hosts on what was turning out to be a spectacular celebration. Moving his eyes across the room in search of his delectable husband, Draco stiffened suddenly when he caught sight of Harry cornered by his ex-fiancée, over by the bar. Though Harry appeared to be unruffled, it was clear—at least to Draco—that Ginny was standing far to close to him. The petite redhead appeared to be stroking Harry's arm and, although Harry kept moving backwards, she kept advancing just as quickly. 

Draco saw red, and before he knew what he was doing, he had Apparated across the room and was standing in between his husband and an extremely annoyed Ginny Weasley. 

"Oops, how _clumsy_ of me." Draco looked smugly at the woman before him. "Seems to be an incurable problem of mine." He glanced over his shoulder at Harry, who was trying to suppress a grin.

"Er, Ginny was just… apologising. For the things she said to the _Daily Prophet_." Harry snaked his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him in snugly, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder, as he regarded his ex-fiancée with feigned indifference. Draco leaned back into Harry's embrace and felt his husband's arms tighten ever-so-slightly around his waist.

"Oh. How nice." Draco raised an eyebrow at Ginny, whose lips thinned. To her credit, she kept her cool, and after several awkward moments she finally spoke.

"Yes, er, I was just saying to Harry how sorry I was about the misreporting of my words in the _Prophet_. Of course I didn't say nearly half of those things." She laughed bitterly and Draco pursed his lips in disbelief. 

"I'm sure," was all Draco said in reply.

"So… um… Harry—and Draco—I am so sorry for how things turned out," she appeared to be gritting her teeth as Draco nuzzled against Harry's chin. "I do wish you both all the best." Turning, she waved at someone across the room. "I've, er, got to be going…." With that she strode off, leaving Harry chuckling softly into Draco's ear.

"You do have good timing," he purred against Draco's neck.

"Timing's the least of what is good about me." Draco turned then and pulled Harry into a heated embrace. Several cat-calls went up as they deepened the kiss and suddenly Draco knew this was what his life was all about. It was he and Harry, together, like this. And, unexpectedly, the words didn't scare him any more.

"I love you, Harry. Let's go home." Pulling Harry closer, he leaned in for another kiss and they Apparated away.

Fin 


End file.
